


Don't Go Down Without Me

by crow_feathers



Series: Through Everything [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bittybones (Undertale), Angst, Don’t copy to another site, Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, gender neutral reader, this is a failed attempt at smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crow_feathers/pseuds/crow_feathers
Summary: You just wanted to get drunk and indulge in your strange fetish and self loathing. Your bitty walks in on your pity party.





	Don't Go Down Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> Bittybones AU by tumblr user fucken-crybaby
> 
> I tag a lot of things with self harm but this one is a lot more graphic than usual - be warned.
> 
> This was supposed to be smut; it turned into...this. If I missed any tags, please let me know! I think this counts as h/c?
> 
> I'll probably change the title/summary at some point.

You sucked in a breath of air heavily, trying not to alert your, ah, roommate, with your needy huffs. The actors from the porn video you had playing moaned into your headphones loudly. You forced your shaky hand to steady itself as you laid the razor blade down on your desk. The blood from your other wrist started to run, and you quickly wrapped the towel you had set aside in preparation around it.

You let out a little hiss, equal parts pain in pleasure. It was fucked up, but you had found out a long time ago that slicing your skin open was sexually thrilling. You tried not to do this very often; bandages and long sleeves in summer were just about as incriminating as the actual wounds. But you had let yourself get pretty buzzed, and your head swam with alcohol and impulsiveness. You’d promised your bitty you’d stop doing this shit, you’d stop hurting yourself, you’d-

You forced that train of thought out of your mind, squeezing your bleeding arm harshly. It sent a wave of pleasurable pain through your wrist, and the once white towel became a slightly deeper shade of red. You opened your mouth in a breathy exhale, trying to force yourself not to make too much noise.

God. You wanted to slice your arm again, deeper, draw out more blood. You picked the razor back up, dragging it against a reddish pink line on your wrist. So far, you’d never needed stitches. You’d always managed to keep just enough self control to save yourself the price of a hospital visit, no matter how much you wanted to just-

Your left wrist and arm were riddled in scars; some over ten years old, some as recent as six months ago. No sense in worrying about what it looked like now. Everyone knew you did this. It was an open secret, really. Most people never bothered to actually talk to you about it. All you ever got were disgusted assumptions and angry judgements.

You scowled at the sudden memory of a coworker _grabbing_ your arm to inspect the fresh cuts. What kind of prick thinks it’s okay to just fucking grab people? It was none of their goddamned-

You shoved it from your mind. Not tonight, you told yourself.

“Human?” A tiny, sharp voice pulled you out of your angry reminiscing. Fuck. You’d forgotten about Chaz. Did you lock the door? You could have sworn you locked your bedroom door.

Even in your alcohol fueled daze, you knew you’d fucked up. First things first. You slammed the necessary keys on your keyboard to get rid of the porn; you didn’t want to expose your little guy to that shit, even if he was already a dirty minded little bastard.

You kept your gaze steady on your wrist. “How did you get in here?”

“Locking your door doesn’t do shit if you don’t shut it all the way. Idiot.” Chaz talked a lot of shit for someone who was only five inches tall. He teleported his way to your desk. When you’d first brought him home, that little trick had scared the shit out of you. You were used to it now. He gave the razor a dirty look, and you put it back in its container one handed and awkwardly.

You still had no clue in hell what kind of bitty he was, though. You liked to joke that he was the ‘asshole’ variety. You would have never went out and bought or adopted a bitty on purpose, but certain circumstances had led to you living with the little dude. You still couldn’t believe that bitch was just _going to throw him in the fucking garbage-_

“Let me see it,” he said, voice softening. You pulled your mind to the present. He started making his way over, undoubtedly meaning to heal it-

You yanked your arm up out of his reach, still clutching the towel keep blood from dripping. “I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with this, Chaz.” He scowled at you, and God, you wished you were more drunk. “I don’t want you to tire yourself out healing my stupid ass.”

Last time he had healed you, he’d slept at least thirty hours over the next two days. The guilt had been more painful than the wounds, but he did save you a trip to the ER for stitches… you made his favorite meal almost every day for a week after that. It had been a bad, bad week.

The tiny monster crossed his arms and huffed at you. “At least let me see it,” he instructed.

“You’re so bossy,” you mumbled, though you complied. You set your arm back down on the desk and gently peeled the towel off it. The tangy copper scent of blood permeated the air. You did your best to not wince as you realized exactly how deep you had cut this time.

“Out of all your damn freaky fetishes…” Chaz trailed off, shaking his head to himself as you wordlessly started moving your supplies closer.

“I thought we agreed to drop that,” you growled.

Not even a month after he started living with you, you had, like the dumbass you always were, accidentally forgot to log out of your account for your favorite porn site before heading to work. The site had a favorite function, and Chaz had happily spent the day discovering your taste in pornography. It was a sore point for you. You kept that shit private for a damn good reason.

“I’m just sayin’, seems like there’s a lot of ways for you to get off without making a mess of yourself like this.”

You sighed, deciding not to comment.

There was too much blood to clean up at your desk. You offered a hand to the bitty, which he climbed onto without a word, and he made his way to your shoulder. You wrapped the towel around the cuts again and stood up.

You grabbed the necessary supplies - antibiotic cream, gauze, and the roll of medical tape - and set off for the bathroom.

You were starting to sober up. Fuck. You already felt bad enough without being able to think clearly about it. At least it made it easier to navigate the hallway, you supposed.

In the bathroom, you set Chaz down by the edge of the sink and got to work. Setting the towel by the sink, you braced yourself for stinging as you squirted soap on the cuts. He crossed his arms and watched, as if he thought you wouldn’t take care of yourself if he didn’t supervise.

“You know-” Chaz started.

“Don’t,” you said.

Ugh, alcohol really was a blood thinner. Every drop of blood you washed away was quickly replaced with more.

“Remember the night we met?” He said anyway.

You pinched at skin around the wound, trying to draw out as much blood as possible before drying and bandaging it. “What about it?” You asked.

“I think-” he turned his head away, trying and failing to conceal a thoughtful frown- “I think the way I felt then is the way you feel now,” he said, words tumbling out of his mouth almost faster than you could comprehend them.

“Nobody tried to throw me in a fucking dumpster,” you said. “I don’t see how-”

He cut you off. “Stupid. Not worth the trouble. Just a burden on everyone else. Disgusting. A mistake of a person that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Am I right?”

You scowled, and Chaz rolled you off a wad of toilet paper to dry your arm with. You suspected he just wanted to have an excuse to not face you. You turned the water off and dabbed it at your arm.

“That situation wasn’t your fault at all. This situation right here? All my fault dude. I’ve always been in control of my life. I wasn’t ever put in a goddamn pet store and left in the mercy of the general public. It’s a little different.”

You had him there. He didn’t respond, deciding to spend his energy unscrewing the cap from the tube of antibiotic ointment instead.

“Thanks,” you grunted. As harsh as the two of you were to each other, it always came from a place of caring. You rolled out a suitable length of gauze- aw fuck, you’d forgot to bring scissors to cut the it with.

Chaz was already ahead of you. Face screwed up in concentration, he sliced the section off with a magic attack.

“Thanks,” you repeated, numbness setting in. The alcohol haze and endorphin rush were both starting to wear off. The comedown always fucking sucked.

The two of you repeated the process with the medical tape. Neither spoke as Chaz helped you wrap your injuries.

After that was finished, you offered him a hand again, and he found his way back to your shoulder. “Don’t fall,” he warned as you stumbled slightly on your way to the bedroom. You wanted to snap a retort back at him, but you were suddenly too tired.

Almost as soon as you reached the bed, Chaz teleported to it. You threw yourself down, making sure not to squish him.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me like this,” you informed the ceiling.

“You shouldn’t have had to fish my wor- fish me out of the garbage and deal with me being a complete shithead,” he snapped back. “I thought you had already figured out that life ain’t fucking fair.” He made his way to your face and rested a tiny hand on your cheek.

You exhaled harshly. Pets weren’t supposed to take care of their owners. That wasn’t at all how it was supposed to work. Then again, you supposed Chaz really wasn’t a pet.

“Yeah, I know it’s unfair ‘cause you’re stuck with me,” you said, trying to sound playful. The attempt fell flat.

Chaz swatted your cheek, to no effect. “Nah, you’re the one who’s stuck with me, bitch.”

You laughed. “Then I guess we deserve each other, or some shit like that.”

“Damn straight.”

You fell asleep almost immediately.


End file.
